


On Shame and Joy

by sohardtopickaname



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst and Feels, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, what if Brienne did not drink out of being honest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-18
Updated: 2019-06-27
Packaged: 2020-05-14 09:55:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19270879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sohardtopickaname/pseuds/sohardtopickaname
Summary: - You didn’t drink, - a tinge of bravado in his voice, a haunted expression in his eyes.- Were you expecting me to? – disbelief in her voice, a wounded expression in her eyes.What if not drinking in response to Tyrion's move in the game was an honest answer?





	1. She didn't drink

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Hold Still](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19193389) by [Naughty_Yorick](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Naughty_Yorick/pseuds/Naughty_Yorick). 



> This fic was inspired by "Hold Still", an amazing piece by Naughty_Yorick, that made me wonder whether there could be an explanation to the fact that while Brienne and Jaime were reasonably comfortable in the physical presence of each other up until leaving Harrenhal but avoided even a slightest touch ever since. That led to a whole train of other thoughts, and my crazy mind finally spit out an idea: What if the assumption everyone had about Brienne being a virgin was incorrect? 
> 
> Note: I am not using any of the actual content of "Hold Still" in my fic.

\- You didn’t drink, - a tinge of bravado in his voice, a haunted expression in his eyes.

\- Were you expecting me to? – disbelief in her voice, a wounded expression in her eyes.

Jaime slid past her into the room and rushed to the table, before the wine pitcher and goblets would fall out of his clumsy grasp.

\- Well... – he began and then paused, still avoiding eye contact. – This is Dornish.

Brienne folded her arms across her chest.

\- You’ve told your brother. You thought it would be more fun to mock me together?

\- I haven’t! – he finally looked her in the eyes, defiantly. – I swear I haven’t told him.

\- Then how does he know?

\- He doesn’t. He was just being rude and... I believe he thought he was helping me.

\- _Helping_ you? – arms still folded.

\- To... well, to... Gods, this is hard, and I am too drunk to find the right words. I believe he thought you would leave, offended, and I would follow you, and...

\- And?

\- And your answer to his question would change overnight.

\- But you are not your brother and you know it could not possibly change. Why are you here?

\- Because... – he looked at her in desperation, then suddenly began taking his jacket off. – You keep it warm enough in here.

\- It’s the first thing I learned when I came to the North. To keep the fire going. You did not answer my question.

\- I’m trying to.

\- By taking off your clothes?

\- Yes! – he yelled. – If would help if you could take yours off too.

\- And why would I do that? – she asked coldly.

\- So that we could... Gods, Brienne, you know bloody well what I am trying to say.

\- That you have been missing your sister again?

\- What? – he blinked. – Why would I say that to you?

\- I don’t know, perhaps because that was what you said to me back then?

\- Well, you said you had been thinking about Renly, - he blurted out the first thing that came to his mind.

\- I didn’t say anything of the sort. _You_ did.

\- Fine, maybe you didn’t _say_ that, but you certainly were thinking about him, weren’t you?

\- No, - she said flatly.

\- Maybe, but I thought...

\- You didn’t. You weren’t thinking about your sister either.

\- So sure, aren’t you? – he finally snapped. – May I ask why?

\- You were gentle.

\- And that’s it? I was _gentle_? Of course, I was gentle, I’m not a fucking rapist!

She glared at him.

\- So you have a habit of constantly asking your sister if you are hurting her, and also of reminding her that you can stop at any moment?

\- No, I don’t, - he admitted slowly.

\- You were just so ashamed of your weird desire to sleep with an ugly beast that it was easier to pretend that you mistook me for your beautiful sister in the darkness, - she turned and went to put another log into the fire, blinking away the tears of anger.

\- Is that what you think? – he clutched the edge of the table, as if his legs were about to fail him. – Is that what you’ve been thinking all these years?  

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Their actual first time. Jaime's POV.

All he wanted was to steal a kiss. He deserved it, after all, a knight who had just saved a maiden could expect that much. Besides, he was curious.

She refused Qyburn’s help, of course, given that the only way to bandage the gashes on her neck was by running the linen across the chest, her _bare_ chest. Jaime did his best not to stare when the pink joke of a dress slid off her shoulders. It wasn’t anything he had not seen before, he reminded himself. _Not that he wasn’t ashamed by the way his body had reacted to it_. Best not to look at all, he decided.

\- I think it would be quicker if you looked, - she said with her cheeks flaming red when his fingers brushed against her nipple, prominent against the cool air.

\- Apologies, my lady, - he murmured. _Fuck_. – Please hold this end.

When he finished, she reluctantly began pulling the dress on.

-There is no need, - he said hastily. – Lord Bolton gave me a second change of clothes, it should fit you... well, better than this.

\- Thank you, Ser Jaime.

They stayed silent for a while.

\- Why have you returned to Harrenhal? – she asked softly. – You were well away, I assume.

Here was his chance, and he jumped on it.

\- You are asking me instead of thanking? That’s rather disappointing.

\- I have thanked you, Ser Jaime, and I can thank you again, if you wish.

\- No, I meant a proper way to thank a knight who had saved a maiden. You are still a maiden, I hope?

\- And what would the proper way be? – she asked warily, not having answered his question.

\- To kiss the knight, of course! – he tried to sound dashing but immediately sensed that it had not come out that way.

She was staring at him now, her blue eyes wide open, her lips slightly parted. He thought it was the moment to steal that bloody kiss and be done with it but for some reason he couldn’t bring himself to do it. And then she kissed him.

It wasn’t a chaste brush of the lips he could expect from a maiden who blushed so easily. It wasn’t a let’s-fuck-now kiss, Cersei’s specialty, either. It was daring and artlessly honest, and his heart skipped a beat, and he instinctively threw his arms around her waist, pulling her close, and he only realized it was no longer just a kiss when he heard her breathing raggedly into his ear as his lips were exploring the unbandaged side of her neck.

\- You don’t owe me anything. You don’t owe me _this_ , - he whispered in a desperate attempt to be worthy of her calling him _Ser_.

\- I know, - she whispered back, her fingers working on the laces of his shirt.

\- It means we can stop.

\- I know, - she repeated, grasping the hem of his shirt and pulling it off over his head.

\- You are a maiden, aren’t you? – he asked breathlessly, his chest brushing against the silk of her skin and the linen of her bandages.

\- Yes, - she said.

\- Are you sure? – he gently nudged her onto her back, pulled up her dress and climbed on top of her, hips to hips. Hoping that she would get afraid of his hardness and come to her senses. Hoping that she would not.

\- Shut up, - she exhaled and moved her hips upwards fiercely, as if lashing out at that damn bear.

He couldn’t remember much afterwards, just her strong thighs holding him steady above her, her dry lips on his neck, the way she winced when he entered her and the way she closed and opened her eyes, as if granting him permission to continue, the sweat on her upper lip and a single tear on her right cheek, her hands, firmly grasping his buttocks at one moment and then tenderly stroking his back.

\- Please be careful, - she whispered to him when she sensed his body tense up, her cheeks getting even redder than they had already been, how was that even _possible,_ where the fuck did she learn about _being careful_?

He obliged, how could he not, it was a sensible thing to do, and yet _he_ felt so empty when he did it, felt it in his heart before than in his body.

He helped her out of the dress, _finally_ , and used the least filthy parts of it to wipe his seed off her body. He had to wipe it off his own body too, for he could not resist the temptation to rest on her for a while, inhaling her warm and salty smell and listening to her breathing calm down.

 

***

The first ray of the morning sun sneaked through a hole in the window shutter and hit Jaime in the face. Brienne was asleep, her face solemn and innocent, as if she was still a maiden. _Except she wasn’t_. Jaime felt a wave of shame flush all over him, reddening his face, making his stomach churn and his head spin. He betrayed Cersei. Just weeks ago, he was teasing Catelyn fucking Stark about the bastard her beloved Ned had fathered. He was so proud of being faithful to Cersei, about the only thing he could be proud of in his entire life, and there he was, in bed with the ugly stubborn girl, _Gods, she looks so young_ , the girl he kept saving for Gods know what reasons, the girl who thought herself a warrior but was pining over Renly Baratheon... perhaps that was the reason she was so eager to sleep with him? because she could never have Renly anyway, and she thought this would be her only chance to know what fucking feels like? It must have been it. Surely, she could not have wanted to sleep with _him_.

She shifted a little and slowly opened her eyes. So blue, so fucking _blue_ , it was killing him. And she was smiling, too, though shyly and uncertainly. There was something in her smile and in her fucking blue eyes that made him freeze. Cersei will _see_. One look like that, and Cersei will _know_. And if Cersei _knows_ , she will _kill_ her, and maybe not before _torturing_ her into madness.

\- Have you slept well, my lady? – he asked, avoiding her gaze.

\- Yes, - she blinked. – And you?

\- I cannon complain, thank you.

She kept looking at him, and he finally realized that she was waiting for a kiss.

\- I do not want to leave any misunderstanding between us, my lady. I must apologize for my behavior last night. It would not have happened had I not been missing my sister so desperately. It was a moment of weakness, and I regret that your honor suffered as a result. But you cannot blame me entirely, you were eager to participate.

She blinked again, then he saw her face change slowly. Her cheeks, rosy from sleep, went pale, a thin line between her eyebrows deepened and turned into a frown, her lips thinned.

\- I was, - her voice sounded distant and dull. – There is no misunderstanding, Ser Jaime, and I am not blaming you for anything.

\- I hope you enjoyed it somewhat though, - he added. – You were imagining _Renly_ in my place, of course.

Her jaw tightened visibly.

\- I trust you are still willing to share your clothes with me? – she asked at last, in the same dull voice.

\- Of course, - he nodded and opened his sack. – Here.

\- Thank you.

\- Will you let me look at your wounds or you would prefer Maester Qyburn?

\- It will be suspicious if I call for him right after spending the night in the same room with you.

\- You are right.

He opened the shutters and let the morning light in fully, then loosened the linen straps on her shoulder just enough to see the wounds, applied the ointment quickly and bandaged her up again. She thanked him stiffly, stood up and quickly put on his pair of breeches and his shirt, brushed her short hair with her fingers.

They did not talk after they left the room. He tried not to look at her, but he couldn’t help noticing that she winced ever so slightly when mounting the horse. Otherwise, however, she seemed to be doing fine. No tears, no pleading, no stupid hope in her eyes, not even that dangerously obvious look of a woman scorned. Cersei might not notice anything, after all.


	3. Chapter 3

\- Is that what you think? – asked Jaime, and something in his voice, to Brienne’s utter surprise, somewhat soothed her anger. – Is that what you’ve been thinking all these years?

\- What else was I supposed to think, if I may ask?

\- I... – he paused and shook his head. – I am now thinking that you may have had a reason.

\- You are _thinking_?

\- Please, let me tell you my side.

\- I am listening, - she made sure to keep enough distance from him so that she could see his face clearly but not feel his presence with every inch of her skin.

\- I was scared. You looked at me in the morning and I panicked. I knew that if Cersei saw that look, she would have.... she would have done something terrible to you. If she only sensed any kind of warm feelings between us...

\- But she did.

\- Well, yes, but that was later, and it was my fault. I may have stopped her once or twice when she would call you... names.

\- If that is true, it was stupid of you.

\- I couldn’t really help it.

\- I’ve been called names my entire life, it does not sting me anymore.

\- But at least she has not suspected that you could have feel anything but disdain towards me.

Brienne snorted loudly.

\- What?

\- You sister spoke to me at King Joffrey’s wedding.

\- So?

\- She not only suspected, she stated it outright.

\- She stated _what_ outright?

\- That I... – she bit her lower lip. – Not important, I don’t remember the exact words.

\- It seems like you do.

\- It doesn’t matter. Also, it’s getting late and this is my _bedroom_. You have no business here. You can honestly tell your brother that... what was it that he had been hoping for? _that my answer changed overnight_.

\- I honestly don’t care what my brother is hoping for. I have my own hopes.

\- Such as?

\- _You_ , Ser Brienne of Tarth.

\- There are many women at the feast who would be happy to welcome you into their beds, all of them looking like women, not beasts.

\- I’ve said that only once. I was angry and drunk, and I was wrong. You don’t look like a beast and you never did. You look like a knight, Brienne, and if anyone has ever been right in their words about you, it was Catelyn Stark when she said that you are a truer knight than I would ever be.

\- There is a plenty of knights at the feast as well. I haven’t seen Ser Davos leave, and there are others.

\- I don’t want any other woman and I don’t want any other knight, Brienne. I am not _ashamed_ of wanting you, I am _proud_ of it. If you wish, we can go back to the feast and I will scream that at the top of my lungs so that everyone could hear. Or I can duel Tormund Giantsbane.

\- Why would you duel Tormund Giantsbane?

\- He wants you too, - he said simply.

\- And you would duel him because of that?

\- Yes. He may be bigger than I am, but I am smarter.

\- If you were, you would know that he is a wildling, and therefore he would not even understand the idea of a duel. He doesn’t think that one can win a woman’s affection through an act of pointless fight against another man. He would simply offer his own heart and leave the choice to the woman.

\- Are you saying that you would choose him over me?

\- I am saying that you should leave.

\- What if I won’t?

\- Then I will have to throw you out.

\- If you use your sword on me, you will have to do a lot of explaining on the morrow.

\- I don’t need a sword to throw you out, - she scoffed.

\- Really? – he took a step towards her.

She took a step back.

He took another step forward.

She felt the hard coldness of the wall pressed to her back.

He stepped closer.

Jaime’s face blurred before her eyes, she could only see a man moving towards her, cornering her, and then she couldn’t see anything at all. When her vision returned, she saw Jaime on the floor a few feet away from her, blood dripping from his nose.

\- Gods, Jaime! – she rushed towards him, falling on her knees half-way, cupping his face in her hands as soon as she reached him. – Have I hit you?

\- You have, - he groaned.

\- I am so sorry, I am so very sorry, I just felt... you were moving fast... I couldn’t... – she began sobbing uncontrollably and took her hands off his cheeks to bury her own face in them.

He suddenly realized.

\- Brienne, - he whispered. – Brienne, I’m sorry.

He carefully, inch by inch, moved her hands away and helped her burrow her face into his chest.

\- I am sorry, Brienne, - he was stroking her back gently, the blood from his nose now dripping onto her head, coloring her hair red. – I will never, _never_ harm you.

They sat on the floor for a while. Then she lifted her head slowly and looked at him.

\- You are covered in blood.

\- You too.

\- I’ll bring water.

She washed his face, and he washed hers, and it felt far more pleasant than it should have.

\- Do you want me to leave now? – he asked.

\- Do you still want to stay?

\- Yes. And I don’t mean... we don’t have to... I can just be with you.

\- Stay, - she said softly.

She lifted the furs on the bed, inviting him into her bed.

\- May I take my shirt off? It is bloody hot in here, - he asked apologetically.

Without saying a word, she took the laces of his shirt into her hands and pulled him close. She untied the laces and took his shirt off, carefully trying not to touch his nose that had just stopped bleeding. Then she quickly untied her own shirt and let it slide off her shoulders. He was looking at her solemn face, awestruck.

\- Brienne, - he said.

\- It _is_ hot in here, and there are furs on the bed.

She looked at his breeches, trying to decide whether he needed help unlacing them, and saw a distinct shape bulging at the front.

\- I apologize, - he said in haste. – I cannot really control it, not when I see you like this. But I won’t touch you if you don’t want to, I promise.

\- What if I want you to? – she asked, her voice low and trembling.

\- Then I will.

\- Take them off and come to bed, - she said and began working on the laces of her own breeches.

\- May I take this off too? – he lifted his right arm, showing her the gold hand.

\- You’d better.

And so he did.

And he touched her, and she touched him, and they kissed, and they breathed heavily, and his nose started bleeding again as soon as he climbed on top of her, and they giggled as naughty children, and their skin was slippery with sweat, and they had to push all the furs off the bed, and she blushed, and he was clumsy, and it was so different from the perfect night each of them had been imagining, and she suddenly realized he was crying as the last wave of pleasure ripped through his body, and she cried too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay, I finished it!


End file.
